Allegory of the Cave
by Macalaure
Summary: [VI] "Better to be the poor servant of a poor master, and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their manner." 10 cent filosofy. Written as a dialog, prose will be posted at some point.


**ALLEGORY  
OF THE  
CAVE**

- Macalaure, aka BlindManOnLadder -

**[Sabin] **I was confronted today by a puzzling situation.

**[Duncan]** Explain it to me, that I may help you understand.

**[Sabin]** I was speaking with Vargas and I inquired as to whether he would wish to know the words the river and the mountains spoke to me today. He denied my inquiry. What is puzzling, is why anyone should deny truth, when the alternative is ignorance.

**[Duncan]** While there are a number of reasons this could be the case, one such case is best illustrated by a mental exercise.

**[Duncan]** Imagine two children sitting outside a hallowed cavern, murmuring with wondrous voices about the secrets held within. Through the translucent glass pane they can see mere shadows of the proceedings occurring inside, animated figures who eclipse the rays of the brilliant electric light that shines onto the glass.

**[Sabin]** And what of the sounds that these children hear from within the hidden hall?

**[Duncan]** The words too are like those carried over huge distances, too few to piece together, and too soft to ignore. Both sight and sound are muddled and confused, like memories of a fading dream.

**[Sabin]** But why do they sit before this hall?

**[Duncan]** These children are products of the state. They know nothing but the broken stone walls in which they were raised. To them the world is not but panels and gray scales, and towering iron doors, and bedrooms with bars on the windows. But this does not discourage them, for they know nothing else.

**[Sabin]** They live in happiness by simple virtue of ignorance.

**[Duncan]** Precisely so. Now imagine that the door opens. A tall figure emerges, back rigid, eyes cold. He is garbed in a majestic violet cape and bears the imperial emblem across his breast. Would not, the children, within their sheltered world, believe this to be the epitome of achievement?

**[Sabin]** But it is not so?

**[Duncan]** It is certainly not so. But within their guarded cave their vision is obscured on all sides but straight ahead. So imagine now that one child turns to the other, eyes shining, voice jumping in her mouth, _I want to be a part of that ceremony, I want to wear the royal cape, and bear the imperial emblem_. And upon saying this would she not craft her reality before her.

**[Sabin]** It would seem she does so.

**[Duncan]** But imagine that one child, she who has not spoken a word, notices a hitch in his step, a twitch in his smile.

**[Sabin]** The two children choose to see different things in the same situation.

**[Duncan] **Precisely. And finally imagine that as the door opens and the children try to see inside, they catch sight of the electric lamp.

**[Sabin]** Having lived all their lives within the dim halls, they would likely be blinded by the light.

**[Duncan]** They would indeed be scarred by the light that was their guide behind translucent glass and be forced to shield their eyes as the door swung closed.

**[Duncan]** Imagine now a different scene. The woman from before kneels, her knees press against the cold stone ground as the weight of the room bears down upon her fragile shoulders. Her body is as vulnerable as ice and she is prone to shatter at the slightest blow.

**[Sabin]** The woman has achieved her reality?

**[Duncan]** Yes, she kneels before the ceremony that will take place. But now she is inside the room.

**[Sabin]** The light within no longer blinds her eyes. She has grown accustomed to its brilliant glow.

**[Duncan]** But despite the clarity of sight, each and all of the sounds within the hallowed cavern would echo a hundred times off broken stone walls before it reached the ears of anyone else in the room. The slither of steel as the sword is drawn from its scabbard would sound strange and tinny to the woman kneeling on the floor.

**[Sabin]** But what noise would break this trance?

**[Duncan]** Now imagine a cry that comes from outside the hall. It does not echo around the hall but is delivered, unadulterated into the hearing of the woman kneeling on the floor. Imagine that the doors to the hall are thrown open and a radiant woman enters. Her presence would set all into a trance and she would be garbed in pure light.

**[Sabin]** The kneeling woman would need to avert her eyes from the new and foreign light.

**[Duncan]** That is correct. And now imagine the woman opens her mouth and her voice is sweet and melodious, unadulterated by the cracked walls of the hall, _Sister of the heart, I have seen the skies open up before me. Their brilliant colors and beautiful sounds are like nothing you have seen or heard in your sheltered life. But proceed with this act and you doom yourself to ignorance_.

**[Sabin]** The others in the room would likely disapprove of this interruption.

**[Duncan]** Of course, he who holds the sword would motion to the woman and shadowy figures would leap from the darkness of the hall and pin her arms to her side, carrying her from the hall. Now the ceremony proceeds and the woman feels the touch of steel against her shoulder and the pressure of the room increases tenfold.

**[Sabin]** When the doors open she would be wearing the violet cloak and bearing the imperial emblem. And the small children watching her exit would coo in admiration.

**[Duncan]** Perhaps one would notice the hitch in her stride and the twitch at her mouth, but they would not understand the emotion that comes with it. For as the woman walks away her feeling of triumph would be trumped by one of shallowness.

**[Duncan]** Finally imagine a room a hundred miles below the surface of the earth. A place where the memories of the warmth of sunlight and the touch of grass are so far faded; a place void of light. There the noose is set. The woman is escorted atop the wretched pedestal. She still radiants such brilliant light that it illuminates a place that has never before seen the light of day.

**[Sabin]** But does her radiance last?

**[Duncan]** The executioner approaches the pedestal, and her hood would slip from her face. She is forced to shield her eyes from the radiant light as she pulls the hood back over her eyes. But it is far too late to avoid the recognition she understands is coming.

**[Sabin]** These are the children from the origin. They who saw the same scene so fundamentally different.

**[Duncan]** They will see each and every sight and hear each and every sound fundamentally different. And across the short distance she reaches out with her voice, _My sister, why have you forsaken me_?

**[Sabin]** And what does she reply.

**[Duncan]**_ You went out and returned without your integrity. Your eyes, your ears, and your mouth will be shut so you may corrupt no one else_. And as she says so, a bag is placed over the woman's head. But black leather is not enough to cage the radiant light. It spills out from under the mask and illuminates every corner of the room.

**[Sabin]** What is enough to put out the light?

**[Duncan]** Now imagine the executioner steps back to a vicious lever protruding from the floor. She pulls the lever and the body disappears into darkness. Within the chasm below the light has been extinguished. And with its extinguishing the revelation that could have been is lost forever to the shadows and echoes reflected about broken stone walls.

**[Sabin]** But why has this dear sister committed such a vile act?

**[Duncan]** Recall the premise that each views the world differently. Some in this world, possess ideals shaped in such a way that they are brought up to reject all else but their own point of view. Recall again the sheltered lives these girls brought up, and when one was able to break the mold, the other could not understand, or bear, the burden. She had a choice: enlightenment, with the knowledge that she could never achieve true freedom, or ignorance.

**[Sabin]** And she chose the latter. The human condition is truly damned.

**[Duncan]** And yet, not all fit the mold. Some are able to break free from the land of shadows and echoes and fly. These are the children of humanity who know true color, and true music, and true life. For darkness is a relative term and there cannot be dark without something to compare it to. There cannot be night without gloriously bright day.

**[Sabin]** So as long as humanity lives on, the light will never go out. It is perpetuated in the hearts and minds of those who not only achieve enlightenment, but also achieve the courage and strength of heart to break the bonds that bind them. These are the heroes of mankind.

**[Duncan]** Quite so.

* * *

_Dafuq?_

_First: _[ /watch?v=69F7GhASOdM ]

_Second:_ [ /watch?v=VCkdM8DIv2I ]

_Third: so this is what happens after playing FF6 when you're supposed to be writing an essay on Plato. I do think Plato_'s_ allegory lends itself well to the characters of FF6 well though, especially my interpretation of them. The first link is a claymation of Plato's allegory and the second one is a song by Thrice that questions materialism and shadow reality._

_I'll post the prose version as a second chapter, since that will probably appeal to people more._


End file.
